


Stolen

by crystaltongues



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:43:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystaltongues/pseuds/crystaltongues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some Skysolo drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen

The whiskey was accompanied by a spreading warmth and a dizzying of mind.  
The bottle sat between them on the bed. Neither of them wanted to be the guy who drank the last of it.  
Unfiltered laughter bounced through the Falcon, breathing life into the love that had always simmered beneath the surface.  
They were a volcano, a Jedi and a Corellian.  
The playful pushes lasted longer and longer. The head lock eased into a hand caught in soft, blond hair.  
Casual touches smudged the lines that had been in place foe years. Unspoken but respected.  
Now that was undone with quickening breath and small gasps. Tongue found tongue, pushed and demanded more.  
Close, but not close enough. It would never be enough.  
The haze of drink made actions and words fade into a blur of skin and wanting.  
The only way to love another was to hide in that sweet confusion of whiskey.  
Without it, their love was Han’s hand on the small of Luke’s back to guide him. It was Luke fixing the Falcon. It was Han saving Luke’s neck. It was Luke’s bashful grin. It was Han’s relentless teasing.  
It was this, their secret, their little paradise.  
In the morning they would wake in a tumble of clothes and sheets, unsure of exactly what transpired, but both feeling the shame.  
Self hate meant Han would go off on his own, go off to find girls.  
Jedi teachings told Luke this level of attachment was not acceptable, and he would isolate himself for months on some obscure planet.  
Both wishing, both missing, both wanting.  
Short messages exchanged over the long hours apart.  
“Got a new part for the ship.”  
“Fixed artoo’s leak.”  
Their own personal code for “I love you.”  
All their friends couldn’t see why either one would be unhappy, they had it all-fame, fortune, the end of the empire. Everything but each other for more than these few stolen nights.


End file.
